


Book 7: The Price of Divinity

by BepisPerfected



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BepisPerfected/pseuds/BepisPerfected
Summary: The continuation from Book 6
Collections: Paar Jun; a Biographical Account of Ambition





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appendix of terms: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132244

#  Book 7: Price of Divinity

As recorded by Dremora Tzukyl, Palace Scribe.

##  Chapter 1

With Cloudrest under his grip, Paar Jun put the next phase of the campaign into effect. The massive Imperial Procession was to be broken up into its six Legions to be sent across the Summerset Isles. The disassembled siege ships of Lillandril were still waiting in Karnwasten, so one Legion would be sent to retrieve them and another dispatched to secure Sea Keep, the artillery’s destination. They would not be as powerful a deterrent as the Grand Malondo stones, but it should be good enough to dissuade attack. Jun raised Kodaarviing, who had been so rude as to die, and sent him down to Shimmerene with another Legion to aide Veysan and his Marines in moving the material from his own disassembled siege ships to Cloudrest. Jun planned to remain in the city for the remainder of the campaign, so fortifying it against attack was paramount. Agni extinguished the portal in Karnwasten and prepared for it to be moved up Eton Nir as well. A Legion would remain within the Cloudrest to reinforce it while the greater army moved south towards the cities of Alinor, Dusk, and Sunhold. Maormer wavepriests were conjuring storms to ravage the coast and turn the seas too rough for the Altmer to easily sail, allowing the Empire forces to dominate the overland fighting.

The Welkynar Knight Nyderion still guarded the south of Summerset, and High Kinlady Arannelya was steadily bolstering Thalmor forces. Reinforcements from Skywatch had already docked in Sunhold and more were coming from the rest of the Aldmeri Dominion. Their armies had pulled out of southern Cyrodiil as news of the invasion reached them, and now ships from Elsweyr and Valenwood were inbound.

If the general was smart, she would have them smash in through Karnwasten and use a combined land and naval assault to retake Sea Keep. It would be costly but would re-secure the Oleander Bay. If they pushed further, the Thalmor could potentially back the Imperial forces up the slopes of Eton Nir and into a corner at Cloudrest, leaving them with no way to escape. They could then use the remainder of Summerset to eliminate his dragons, using their own nature against him by challenging and defeating them, then disposing of the corpses in the sea or splitting up the bones them to make it difficult for Jun to revive them. Their inland focus would allow Orgnum to return and conquer Sunhold and siege Alinor, but that would be temporary. Without domination over the air, the Welkynar could disable the Cloudrest artillery while the army made a bloody push up the mountain, wasting the Imperial soldiers on a crowded attrition surge and leaving the Lord Emperor and his closest with no choice but to retreat into Oblivion. Having reclaimed the land, the Thalmor could then break the Maormer out of Sunhold and the Isles would clutch victory. Of course, that assumed leadership would be smart.

What Jun instead anticipated was that the Thalmor would be scared witless at having been caught on the back foot and would selfishly call their allies to garrison their controlled cities rather than launch a direct assault. She would hold the Welkynar, the Dominion's best weapon, to defend the capital from dragon attacks, and keep the navy reserved in case the Pyandoneans returned. What fighting would break out would be brutal, with the Altmer determined to defend their remaining lands against the invaders. Jun anticipated great losses, perhaps even having Sea Keep broken out from under his control eventually, though that mattered little. So long as he could keep them away from Cloudrest, he could care less about the Thalmor’s attempts to retake their Isle.

Unfortunately, he could not completely be hands-off. Countering the Dominion still required a head to lead his army, preferably one not occupied with tears. Kinol was a potential candidate, though he had another in mind as well. He knew the Warden-General well enough to make a judgement of his effectiveness, though he devised a psychological angle to attack the Thalmor morale.

He found Ranwe in the plaza, practicing with her stolen Welkynar greatsword. She had not even bothered to clean it yet. Jun leaned up against one of the columns and asked her why she fought the Thalmor. What could possibly have driven someone to welcome hostile invaders into her homeland and actively work alongside them to bring down the world she knew. Ranwe shrugged the question off, asking why it mattered. Jun elaborated that the motives of those loyal to him were just as important as their actions. War is the most horrid of hells into which someone could be plunged; to go in willingly requires justification. For some it was simple: Jun promised a better Empire than the one that came before, one they wished to bring to light. For others they were driven by mutual benefit, trading military service for special privileges or land in the aftermath. With many of the beastfolk, fighting would guarantee them a place amongst the civilized as opposed to being left on the fringes to be hunted. Still, with Ranwe he could tell there was something deeper that drove her. That hidden fire could drive his war machine, but only if he was allowed to stoke it.

The Altmer planted her sword into the flagstones and crossed her arms. She spat at him that her mother was a Thalmor Battlereeve during the Great War, serving under Lady Arannelya herself. Morwyn, Scalpel of the Storm, was considered by her superiors to be one of the most capable commanders of their armies and was well known for striking with a small task force while her main body of soldiers were distracting the enemy. That was, until an Imperial Legate led her strike team into an ambush of Orcish bandits. Her men were killed and she was taken captive, surviving only because she convinced their chief that she was worth far more to the Dominion alive. They sent a ransom note to the Thalmor, asking for her weight in gold in exchange for her safe return. Days waiting for a reply turned to months, with the chief growing more and more impatient. He used and abused his captive to take out his frustrations, then passed her around the camp. She managed to slit the throat of one of the younger Orcs and escape, fleeing through dark forests and fetid bogs to get away. In the time since she had been taken, the War had ended and Morwyn was left stranded and penniless in a foreign land. It took her two months to walk to Valenwood where she was finally recognized by Thalmor agents. She was considered dead by her superiors but officially had only ever been missing, lost under a sea of bureaucracy in the wake of the War’s end. The once-renowned Battlereeve was starved and caked in dirt, though they got her cleaned up and put on a boat back to Alinor. She had just started to show signs of pregnancy and managed to hide it long enough to pass it off as her husband’s, a respected Sapiarch in Alinor. When Ranwe was born, it was clear to see that she had her father’s turquoise eyes, but not those of the Sapiarch. Morwyn and her child were cast out of high society, with the half-orc girl considered an abomination by the Altmeri.

They were forced to live in sewers and in the wilds outside cities, eating rodents and whatever they could catch to survive. Morwyn became less than a beggar, unable to show herself to the world to ask for a stranger’s generosity. Her daughter fared worse, branded apraxic before she could even speak a word. Her mother never forgave the Thalmor that abandoned her, and trained the young half-breed in the twin arts of magic and warfare to protect herself. Ranwe grew up tough, hardship and Orc blood making her stronger with every passing year. Morwyn did not fare as well. Two decades spent in squalor had ruined her health, and she passed away sick and forgotten in the wilds outside Archon’s Grove. Ranwe spent the next few years living in the waterworks under Shimmerene, then later joined the pirates in Karnwasten. She considered herself fortunate enough not to grow tusks like true Orcs, though as a wide smile demonstrated, she instead bore flat sharp teeth like those of a shark, from which her eventual crew of corsairs got their name. Pirating was the only way she could reliably earn an income and feed herself. She recognized the irony that such a beautiful land could be so hollow and rotten, though remarked that even the most gorgeous view could never fill an empty stomach. Ranwe barked that the ruling Thalmor had deprived her and those like her of their most basic necessities, and attested that hundreds of other Altmer were being caged by the oppressive ideals of perfection cultivated by the Dominion and those in their stead. She ripped the sword out of the ground and finally answered Jun’s query: she fought to see justice done, for her mother, for herself, and for the people too cowardly to do it themselves. He nodded, frowned in consideration, and left her to train without another word.

His decision made, Paar Jun moved to the Cloudrest Aerie. On the exquisite buttresses between which gryphons once cavorted, a nest of his raised dragons now perched. Caldra was waiting for him there with her Gallant and her partner’s loyal Skaafin and Mazken. They were setting up the stone statues Jun requested carved, brought with the Procession from one of Agni’s ships. The Flame Atronach was in a foul mood and made no attempt to hide it from him. She growled that she was handling the preparations and that there was an urgent matter in the lower districts that required his immediate attention. Caldra did not elaborate, insisting that it was not worth wasting the time explaining it when it would be obvious once he got there. He scoffed and made his way down the city.

As he descended, he passed Magrah, who had set up in the city’s blacksmith and was admiring a pile of gathered elven arms and armor collected off the dead. She bid him to send Ranwe to her, so she could study the forging techniques used on the Welkynar’s exquisite blade. Jun eyed the rest of her smiths, busy at work repairing broken bracers and gashed cuirasses on the rest of the army. The Orc sheepishly conceited that perhaps deciphering the mysteries of elven craftwork could wait until _after_ the campaign.

Farther down, he encountered Agni reconstructing the portal in an open plaza. She did not want their connection to the Empire left behind in some sea cave, so she brought it with them to ensure that they could continue to receive supplies of food and materials should they be necessary. Jun acknowledged her forethought and promoted her to handle their frontline logistics.

The lowest levels of the city were occupied by a the Imperial field healers, led by the veteran Root Rangers from the Ebonheart ruins. The survivors of the Storming of Sea Keep were all here, bandaged and bruised but in fairly good spirits. Goar had lost his entire left arm to the blast in the courtyard, though just shrugged that he had two for a reason. A bandaged up Gerthok was keeping him company by teaching him to play cards and using his height to cheat looks at the Minotaur's hand. The Lord Emperor left them to their fun and made his way to one of the healer tents at the back, secluded and tucked away into an alley. A pair of Lamia barred the way, but hesitantly let Jun pass as he approached. He could tell by the raspy cry from within that he would not like what he would find, but as the Serpents slithered aside, he still winced at the sight. In the two days since Cloudrest had been conquered, Keksa had neglected food, water, and sleep in order to maintain her wailing vigil over her fallen lover. The corpse she clung to had begun to desiccate, eyes turning black and sunken and skin pulled taught against the bones. The War Lord had ignored every attempt to pull her off Miranae’s body, insisting that she was holding her tight enough to keep her soul on Nirn so they would never be apart.

Caldra appeared behind Jun and pulled him away to talk privately. He joked that he could learn a thing or two about romance from them, but he would have to kill her first. That seemed to improve her mood ever so slightly, but she still got straight to business. She knew that no matter who he chose to lead the march on Alinor, he was going to send his other alongside to support them. Someone still needed to coordinate the defense of Cloudrest, and even an incapacitated Keksa had more tact than the rest of their army. She did not care how the War Lord got fixed, just that it was done quickly. The Thalmor may be licking their wounds, but they would regroup soon enough, and the plan required neither of them to be distracted. Jun held her fiery hand to assure her their scheme would come to pass, and a smirk curled across his face as he got an idea. Seeing this, Caldra made one to match.

Jun had the Serpents gather their leaders as the couple guided them to the Palace of Apocrypha. Upon arrival, the Lord Emperor was shocked and remarked at how it had changed. The oily black stonework of the Arcanum Hall was fading, with patches of clean rock and polished marbled peeking out amongst the slick. The murk in the air had brightened and cleared slightly, and the fires burned taller and hotter on their spires. The acidic ink sea of the realm was absent in the fountains and the moat around the throne, replaced by a bright orange fluid that was hot but not scalding to the touch. Banners proclaiming glory to Hur Momora were singed and ragged, flapping in the non-existent breeze. Caldra mentioned that the changes had been gradually becoming more apparent, down even to the size and shape of the forks, and wondered if this was more trickery of Mora’s at work.

Jun beamed in response, retorting that he was not expecting this to happen so soon. As he closed in on his apotheosis, so too did the Palace. Temporal bleeding was causing the existing structure to merge and overlap with its reflective discrete cosm, with the static now and possible future occupying the same Aurbic unit at once. The Atronach smacked him as he started rambling on about the implications of such an a-Anuic juxtaposition, urging him to focus. This was no time for a lecture on diviniphysics. 

He could not stop smiling, though mentioned that his plan should now be much easier than he expected. He was fairly certain that the fluid was a material called Amber Plasm, a refined form of chaotic creatia produced by some Hist trees suffering from any kind of Padomaic corruption. Given the Argonian root of his soul, Jun reasoned, it would produce a similar kind of creatia. This was the raw building blocks of Oblivion, the flesh of every daedra and surface of every realm.

The War Lord and her Lamia were brought into the Laboratory, with spare Serpents carrying pitchers of the Amber Plasm. Paar Jun told Keksa that her devotion had not been in vain, for the ghost of her love had persisted and followed them. Within the Palace, he could feel her presence as if she were as corporeal as the rest. She could release her here without fear of her departure. Jun offered the grieving Xiuthan to return Miranae to life, converting the Anuic animus of her soul into a Padomeic vestige and using the Amber Plasm to raise her as an immortal daedra. However, this came at a price, a soul for a soul. Keksa would have to pledge herself wholly to the Daedric spirit of Jun, for this life and the next, to grant him the power necessary to perform the operation. She did not hesitate to agree, citing that should this succeed even in death they would spend eternity together.

She stepped away and the Serpents poured the plasm over Miranae’s body. It dissolved her skin and consumed her bones, absorbing the corpse completely. Keksa leaned against Caldra for support, unable to watch. Jun harnessed the powers he possessed already and would eventually, directing the swirling creatia to rise and coalesce around the spirit of the Lamia. From the undefined mass sprouted bone, then the skeleton filled with muscle and blood, culminating in a sheath of scales like polished obsidian pearls. The soft skin of her palms, mouth and underbelly were a pale marble white, though her tongue and bands along her back and tail shone a brilliant gold. When she opened her eyes, they sparkled like fire rubies in her head. Hesitantly, Keksa called out to the daedra with her old name. She turned to her, blinking, then instantly recognized her beloved and rushed to embrace her. Caldra nudged Jun as they watched the two fawn over each other, congratulating him on creating the first Lamia daedra; a Laedria. Miranae shrieked as fire blasted out of her claws, discovering that Jun had imbued her with an affinity for his favorite element. He nudged the Atronach back, suggesting that perhaps the term Flamia was more suitable.

They returned to Mundas, though Jun stayed behind for a moment to mock his old master with his accomplishments. The voice of Hur Momora echoed through the structure, though originated outside. He chastised his Champion for turning against him, for he was nothing without the Daedra’s nurturing. Jun countered that it was the nature of the student to surpass the teacher, as it was his destiny to surpass his mortality, and that as the Prince of Fate he should have seen this coming. Mora cautioned the rebellious Jun, noting that no matter his defiance, the Palace was still part of Apocrypha. Though the demon’s influence was waning within its walls, the more time the immortal Jun spent in the mortal plane, the weaker his hold over the structure would similarly become. In his attempt to prevent the Daedra from seeing into his schemes, so too was he enabling Mora to sink the Palace deeper into Apocrypha and absorb the to-be-realm built around it. The rogue Champion rebuked the Prince and left in a huff, not wanted to admit the possibility of the warning’s validity.

Back in Cloudrest, Paar Jun distributed orders to his commanders. Keksa, as punishment for her outburst, would be reserved to lead the defense of Cloudrest with a single Legion and logistics reserve. Ranwe was to be his regent War Lord in her stead and head the other five Legions as they marched for Alinor. He felt that an Altmer leading the Imperials against them would deeply offend the haughty Thalmor and make them prone to acting irrationally. Veysan would take his crew and her Corsairs back to Karnwasten, from which _The Helmsman_ and their pirate vessels would sail down to meet the Pyandonean Armada and reinstate their attack on the coast. Kinol would march for Sea Keep with a few garrison cohorts to prevent reinforcements from arriving in Oleander Bay. While some of the dragons would remain with the armies, some heading south and some remaining in the city, the rest would be set loose to terrorize the Summerset Isles to their heart’s content. Krahvenaak was sent to specifically aid the Maormer in their raids. Jun made one thing exceptionally clear before he released his commanders: he and his Ambercore were to be in seclusion, and their work was not to be disturbed. Even in the very fabric of Mundas was to crumble around them, Cloudrest must not fall. Everything else was secondary.


	2. Chapter 2

##  Chapter 2

At last, the divided Procession departed Cloudrest. Command had been delegated to the most capable at his disposal, allowing Jun freedom to finally get to work with the apex of his schemes, the cornerstone all his grand planning had led towards. He sealed the highest district of the city to all, placing Sayra and her Mazken clan to guard the gates alongside a compliment of the Imoul Gallant. The forty-eight surviving Ambercore followed the Ebonheart as he made his way to the Aerie. The Skaafin had prepared the eighteen statues of Clavicus Vile around the circular court, with two extras on the bridge that were unnecessary after the unit’s losses from Sea Keep, and an appropriate altar for each. Hay and wood had been piled in the center, with four Blazeweavers standing by. Jun selected sixteen of his most hardened Ambercore to join the first shift, with a third of the remaining on collection duties and another third sent to rest. The Skaafin each handed out elven daggers that had been bound by the dying blood of Welkynar Ainmyr. Steeled for what was to come, on the 23rd of Sun’s Height 4E 216, Paar Jun commenced the beginning of the Misery.

Mazken masquerading as Altmer representatives, each backed by a pair of Ambercores, visited the households of Cloudrest, starting at the lowest districts and moving up. They tapped into their amber hearts to clear the ash plaster from the doors and allow them inside, then collected the cowering civilians in groups of eighteen to be ‘taken to meet the Lord Emperor’. Some fought and had to be subdued with a paralysis spell, but for most they were too hungry, scared, or relieved to just see the sun again to resist. They were brought up to the Aerie and divvied up amongst the Ambercore on shift, Jun, and Caldra. The Altmer would be restrained to the altars and ritualistically sacrificed to Clavicus Vile. Then the bodies would be discarded onto the massive burning pyre in the center, where the Blazeweavers would lift the smoke and flames up away from the city, and the process would repeat. The Skaafin were there to ensure the proper method of sacrifice, ensuring they were offered to the Daedric Prince of Bargains correctly every time. The Ambercore worked all day, preparing, performing rites, killing, then disposing of bodies at a rate of just over two an hour, until they were so exhausted that their knees buckled and they could barely hold the blade. Then the next shift would take over, and continue the process. They hardly ate or slept, with even the resting shift hardly given enough time to recuperate before being sent out again. Every waking hour was devoted to the bloodshed. They averaged thirty-nine sacrifices per Ambercore per shift, netting over seven hundred new dead every day. Men, women, children; they spilled enough blood to flood a river. Over the course of seventeen days, they slaughtered the citizens of the northern Summerset Isles, who had fled to Cloudrest seeking safety and met their end at its peak. On the 9th of Last Seed, after butchering 11,934 people, Jun filled his deal to Vile of 10,000 innocent souls.

The extra dead over the quota was due to a mix of exhaustion-botched sacrifices and the killing of those who were not perfectly innocent. Because Vile had defined the term as being one who had never voluntarily committed a crime or unspeakable act, that had excluded any of the soldiers Jun’s army encountered or imprisoned criminals from qualifying. Almost two thousand extra dead from the secretly guilted, nearly three days out of their whole two-and-a-half-week massacre wasted on imperfect souls. Still, the deed was done, and Jun’s staff spent two more days resting and recovering from the strain.

Whilst in his post-Misery stupor, Jun dreamed. He was on a disk in a black depth, with the only visible objects being a modest Dunmer and a large box of sand. In his hands was a trawl with no weight. She spoke, and he knew her as MEPH. She told him to make, for he was able. He sculped and piled the sand with his tool until he was done. Before him was a woman of one of the races of Men. Nord, perhaps, because she had such beautiful flaming hair. He knew her as Anu-Caldra, for she was static flesh and animus. He knew her as Padom-Caldra, for she had changed. MEPH spoke again and told him to unmake, for he was able. He loved her, so with his tool he dissolved her to grains. The Dunmer nodded. She asked who he was. He stated he was Sand, for he was everything. The disk spun, and he watched himself through elven eyes. She asked who he was. He stated he was trawl, for he was nothing. The disk tilted to its side. MEPH asked his name, and he awoke to a screaming headache. 

Once they were revitalized, the Ebonheart contacted Clavicus Vile again, who was delighted with the offering. The Prince admitted that he did not expect Jun to follow through with the agreement, though he had not yet completed the whole bargain. Still, he could get to work on this special artifact. He told Jun it would take some time to forge ten thousand souls together, but he was looking forward to the process. It also gave the Mulzeymah plenty of time to follow up the other part of their deal.

Finally, Jun unsealed the gates and looked out across a much different city than he had left. Burns, scars, and gouges in the roads suggested that there had been a colossal battle, though as the group descended, they discovered that even whole buildings had been destroyed. Some of the Ambercore mentioned that at some point after the first week they noticed some damage to the buildings when they were on collection shifts, and maybe even fire in places, but they were in such a focused haze they could barely register it. Sayra attested that it took all the illusion magic her Mazken could wield to conceal their work from the battle that had raged, exhausting their abilities simply to allow the Misery to continue unabated. After a few minutes of picking their way through the emptied city, Keksa discovered them. She was wearing a starkly new type of armor, but not new enough to prevent it from being just as damaged as the city around. The War Lord was excited to see them, and insisted she catch the Ambercore up on the news since he had been gone.

The initial stages of their attack on Alinor proceeded well. Artillery from Sea Keep destroyed the Alinor docks and the army was able to crush resistance forces at Rellenthil and Cey-Tarn Keep as they proceeded south. Clashes around the capital were exceptionally bloody and though they were able to push right up to the gates, they could not make it into the city. Ranwe sent the dragons in to cause chaos from within the city’s borders and draw their soldiers from the ramparts, though they were met by the Welkynar Knight Nyderion, who had come into possession of the mythical shield of Auri-el, which granted its holder near-invulnerability and the ability to deflect spells. The last of his order, he fought valiantly against the Dov and used the shield’s power to deflect their lethal breath. Nyderion cut down three of the dragons in the skies over the city proper, hacking halfway through the neck of the fourth, Faadrathmaar, who fled and died just outside the gates. Not wanting to lose her edge, the apraxic Regent War Lord pulled the remaining Dov out and settled in for a siege of the city.

It seemed that after reeling from the initial invasion, Aranneyla was finally able to employ some complex strategy to counter their forces. With the Maormer armada incoming, the battered Sunhold fleet gathered close around the city’s edge and met them head on, allowing the city to be evacuated. Still, they were promptly sunk by the full might of the King Orgnum’s forces and their Imperial specialists. Veysan was particularly notable for ramming Kinlord Glanoyar's swan ship through on _The Headsman_ 's bladed prow, then climbing aboard to hack his crew apart so as not to give them the privilege of drowning. The Maormer took the abandoned city with ease, then prepared to come for the rest of the Altmer escapees. Krahvenaak had been instrumental in assisting them burn through the stocky merchant ships, and Orgnum took this as his personal blessing from Jun to ravage the rest of Summerset.

Meanwhile, their reinforcements from Valenwood and Elsweyr arrived in the Isles. They stopped briefly in Skywatch, then moved in to reconquer the one city the Empire had managed not to fully destroy: Shimmerene. From there they moved, mostly under the cover of night, farther inland through the scorched remains of Russafeld and down past Rellenthil, until they snuck around the siege camp around Alinor. Bosmeri archers struck in the middle of the night, piercing hundreds with an unseen cloud of arrows. The army was quickly roused and met the surge of Khajiiti warriors and their Thalmor allies. Ranwe ordered a full-force push against them, oblivious to the charge of Dominion soldiers roaring out of the Alinor gates. Caught by armies to the north and south, sea to the east and mountains to the west, they were trapped. With only one option, Ranwe had the army retreat _into_ the reinforcements. Dragonfire torched the tree line the Bosmer archers were using as cover, forcing them out into the open with the rest. Imperial troops crashed through the reinforcements, with artillery from Sea Keep helping to push them back even further, until they broke away from the main army. The reinforcements repelled, Ranwe then turned to fight back Nyderion and his charge from Alinor, violently shoving them back as well. All three armies had survived, though the siege had been broken and casualties were irreplaceable, including the death of two more Dov at the Knight’s hand.

Thalmor Battlereeves from Sunhold dug in outside the city in the Eastern Pass, ready to meet the Maormer army. They were formidable on the sea, but terrestrial combat was out of their element and the Thalmor, with some assistance from a minor detachment from the Shimmerene reinforcements and soldiers from the port city of Dusk, were able to cut them down. As the Pyandoneans withdrew back towards Sunhold, they were met by more Lurkers and Yaghra that had crawled out of the sea to staunch Jun’s allies. A horde of them were already causing havoc within Sunhold’s walls. Admiral Veysan and his Half-Giants sliced through dozens of the horrid daedra and disgusting crabs to allow the Maormer to focus on the Thalmor, though as the tide was turning in their favor Nyderion arrived on the back of his gryphon. The Knight dueled the King and Krahvenaak, while the Admiral led the mortals contesting at the gates. The Welkynar wounded the dragon and turned on Orgnum, unleashing the stored power of the Dov’s Tongue into a single burst that launched the King halfway back to Pyandonea. While he was recovering from the feat, Krahvenaak managed to snap off Nyderion’s sword arm and cause him to flee. The Dominion were driven back, but the Maormer forces were left exhausted and kingless within their captured city. Veysan tried to rile them into a naval assault on Dusk, but without Orgnum their Commodore refused to budge. The Admiral then took his own ship and the Sharktooth Corsairs to smash the ports of Dusk themselves, pillaging as much as they could carry from the East Empire Company storehouse and then burning it to the ground. The gathered soldiers were able to rout them before they could go on to burn the rest of the city to the ground, though as they made their escape, Veysan was hit by an arrow in the upper left side of his chest. Still, he managed to make it back to _The Headsman_ and the ships made off with a mountain of loot to take back to Sunhold. On the way, they discovered that the arrowhead had been poisoned and the metal had fused to the muscles in and around his shoulder, meaning that they likely would not be able to remove it until they could get him back to the Root Rangers. He half-heartedly joked that if the poison reached his heart, the Lord Emperor could just grab a pearl or something and jam it in there as a replacement. 

In Cloudrest, Magrah had been obsessively working nonstop with the elven arms and armor they had collected and had achieved a breakthrough. She had created her most complicated alloy mix yet, extracting the quicksilver components of their recovered armor to be melted down as a steel substitute, using its low melting point to combine it with a stock of orichalcum and a sparing amount of ebony. This was then formed around similarly recovered malachite, which the veteran smith found both exquisite and frustrating to shape correctly. She studied the techniques used in both her recovered examples and some Second-Era antiques found in a museum, taking inspiration from their designs. The Legate Quartermaster realized that it worked best when the metal was left to flow, and crafted an organic armor with swirling bands of malachite that could flex with the wearer’s muscles and segmented plates that allowed for free movement. Magrah called this armor greenglass, and touted it as her lightest and most protective blend yet. Rarity of material staunched her initial desire for mass production, though that did not stop her from using what she had at her disposal to create suits for the leaders of their campaign. She prepared a special suit for Ranwe, taking inspiration from her Welkynar blade, and sent them off as soon as possible to their intended recipients.

Within days, scout reports suggested that the Shimmerene reinforcements had regrouped at Russafeld under Nyderion’s command and were marching for Cloudrest to free the civilians that were known to be trapped there. The Bosmer apparently smelled the scent of cooking elf on the wind and pointed him to Eton Nir for the source. The Regent War Lord remembered Jun’s orders to protect the city at all costs and immediately took her army away from Alinor to intercept them. They encountered resistance from a horde of Lurkers, Yaghra, and giant coral crabs lumbering out of the Oleander Bay, more of Hermaeus Mora’s intervention. The dragons roasted the deep dwellers and set the waves ablaze with their Tongue, boiling their rest in their shells. Still, they pressed on, resulting in a minor clash with the Dominion reinforcements at the ruins of Ald Mora that delayed them even more. Keksa’s defensive Legion met the reinforcement army at the Cloudrest gates, chopping through their numbers with artillery and blade alike but losing the lower districts. Miranae joined the Imoul Blazeweavers in raising walls of fire to box the intruders in, though the Thalmor battlemages were able to carve paths through them. Nevertheless, they were able to slow their progression enough to allow the main army to catch up, closing them within the tight-packed streets of Cloudrest. Warden-General Kinol had marched his own soldiers from Sea Keep to head this charge, pushing the reinforcements into Keksa’s defensive lines in the median levels of the city.

Nyderion contested with the dragons defending the city here too, a blade strapped to the stump in place of his arm. Even hindered, he was still able to gouge the wings of Reinhahlok. However, he would be drawn from the fight by the battle cry of Ranwe, who was riding on the back of an injured Krahvenaak. Magrah had outdone herself with the Altmer’s greenglass armor, replicating the design motifs of the Welkynar. However, her greatest insult to the Knight was the ceremonial gryphon-feather wings of Ainmyr’s suit that had been unceremoniously strapped to Ranwe’s back. Everything about the apraxic warrior was a mockery of his order and a challenge, and Nyderion flew into a bling rage to attack her. Like caged rats, the reinforcements below fought bitterly to survive the onslaught of the recombining forces of the Imperial Procession, but it was a losing battle. They called out desperately for the Welkynar’s help, but he was too overcome with grief and anger to hear them, sparing amongst the soot-filled clouds with the dirty mongrel who challenged him. It was not until the choking of his gryphon that he pulled out of the ash clouds, only to hear the dying cry of the last remaining group. He dove hard to their aid, but was shoved sideways by Nahvulkein. His shield dropped away and he was forced back up from the snapping dragon, and though Nyderion managed to slash the beasts eyes out, he was too late to stop the massacre far below him. The Knight wailed as the Legions began to cheer victoriously, but he was broken from this momentary distraction by the heroic yell above him. His last sight was the vicious face of Ranwe in free fall with his companion’s greatsword raised, before she skewered him and his gryphon through the neck.

She wrenched the blade out of their corpses, relishing in the hot spray of battle blood as she fell. Krahvenaak dove to catch her, but in his injured state he could not fly fast enough. Panicking, she tried to cast as many instances of a feather spell as possible that she could to try to make herself light enough that an impact would not turn her bones to splinters. Keksa saw her falling and shouted a word of sheer force in the Tongue to slow her descent just before she hit the ground. Bruised but alive, the bulky Altmer thanked the War Lord for saving her. Keksa cautioned her against throwing herself at the enemy, stating that she had a duty to her soldiers to lead them, not just defeat the threat. A dead commander is no use to anyone. Ranwe acknowledged this and offhandedly remarked that she could understand why Jun had her in charge. Still, the War Lord praised her for taking down Nyderion, naming her Scourge of the Welkynar, a compliment she bore with pride.


	3. Chapter 3

##  Chapter 3

In the aftermath, the Regent War Lord took her remaining forces back to Alinor to reinstate the siege, but neither side had the manpower to overcome the other. That was four days before, and there was no news from the front to assume otherwise. Keksa had been busy clearing corpses out of the city and though they recovered plenty more weapons and armor from the fallen, Auriel’s shield was nowhere to be found. It was believed that, following its legend, the artifact had abandoned its user in his hour of need and disappeared. The War Lord had also spent her time compiling a list of things to bring to the Lord Emperor’s attention when he emerged. Chief among them was the slain dragons that Nyderion had left across the Isles. Nahkiir’s Root Rangers had done their best to heal the wounded Dov, but only Jun could bring them back from the dead. They would be the key to breaking the siege of Alinor in their favor. Veysan and the Maormer in Sunhold were in a similar stalemate with the Dominion forces there and could use some support. The portal back to Ebonheart had been damaged in the assault on Cloudrest, and though Agni attested that she could repair it, she had a grocery list of necessary components that they did not have the manpower to collect with the war in such a state. Their remaining supplies would not last long, though thankfully the mounds of boiled crab and Yaghra had been able to supplement their rations. Still, other materials could not be so easily scavenged, so ending the campaign was paramount. Keksa lastly mentioned that she there was one final concern that required his attention, but it was of a more personal matter and was best left until after everything else was taken care of. He thanked his War Lord for the initiative that had first earned her the position, and instantly got to work.

Paar Jun began by setting the remaining civilians of the city free. Having no use for them, they were ejected from the city but free to return anywhere else. Should they want to go to Alinor, he would not prevent them. Their seclusion inside had thankfully prevented them from knowing the true horrors that had occurred within the city, and Jun wanted to keep it that way. His Skaafin were instructed to clean the Aerie to remove any trace of their actions there.

Jun then wrested Krahvenaak from the healers and took to the skies. He flew over Alinor, raising two of the Dov that Nyderion had killed, the two Xiuthan dragons Faadrathmaar and Lokkunal who had first accompanied him to Skyrim. The other two bodies had been disassembled by the Altmer, meaning that he could not bring them back until they were reconstructed. That would have to wait for the taking of the capital. Jun then took the three dragons to Sunhold, where they scorched the inland roads and chased the remaining Dominion soldiers back to Dusk. Returning to the city, Jun spoke with the demoralized Maormer there. They worried that without their King, they would be unable to take all of the Isles like he promised they would. The remaining captains were seriously considering giving up and returning to Pyandonea. Jun scoffed that he had given Orgnum every advantage to take over the Isles. Jun had drawn the Thalmor’s attention with his own navy and massive army, destroyed the navies of the northern cities, and even gave him both his esteemed Imperial Admiral and the Emperor’s personal dragon to aide their assault on a single city. Yet still Orgnum failed, as he always did. Jun decreed that the skills of the Maormer were being wasted by their King’s ineffectual leadership. Commodore Ilyra of the crews raised her blade towards the Ebonheart, mentioning that he should not speak poor of the deathless King. Pyandoneans were loyal to the end. Jun scoffed that such devotion was obviously misplaced, and so long as the Maormer continued to put their faith in the failure king they would continue to be the equally failed outcasts of Tamriel. Jun had gotten them closer than ever to conquering Summerset, practically gifting the islands to Orgnum, and yet somehow he still lost. Jun repeated the same missive he had to the King months before: the Maormer should have dominion over the whole of the Southern Sea. They had the power; their wavepriests could conjure storms from nothing and their ships were the peak of maritime design. It pained him to see that effort never net them victory.

Veysan added that, having fought alongside the Maormer, the fault lied not in their skills but in their conviction. They were a people of great anger, but when that alone did not grant success, they were defeatist. His Half-Giants and the Corsairs were little more than a bunch of rowdy malcontents, but they had been able to accomplish so much more because they remained relaxed and flexible. If the Maormer were just able to loosen up instead of freezing up when things went awry, they would be unstoppable. In fact, he would consider himself privileged to have such sailors on his crew. Even the Sea Giants agreed they were exceptional mariners. The Commodore looked between the gathered Argonians, Altmer, and Giants, and frowned. One of the Corsairs spoke up. He stated that the only reason they were in this stupid war in the first place was because the old ways had failed, and things would only get better for their people if someone championed change. For the Altmer it would be Ranwe. For the Maormer, it could be her. Ilyra's brow furrowed. 

Jun decreed that they should sail with him to Alinor and watch him do what Orgnum never could: crush the city under his boot. To any ships who joined him he would grant his Imperial boon: any island in the Southern Sea they could conquer would be officially sanctioned under their rule. He considered even giving up all of Auridon, or their pick of the destroyed cities across the Isle. The Commodore was suspicious of such a claim, suggesting it was too good to be true. Jun snorted that they should watch it come to pass beside him, or regret it from afar.

Within a few hours, Paar Jun was riding into Oleander Bay at the head of three dragons, with _The Headsman_ , Sharktooth Corsairs, and the remains of the Maormer fleet behind him. Caldra had gathered all his remaining forces there to meet him, including all but a skeleton crew from Cloudrest. He addressed all his gathered commanders, Keksa and Miranae, Veysan and Kinol, Gerthok and Goar, Ranwe and Ilyra, and of course Caldra, and thanked them for their exemplary and unflinching service. Today, the Summerset Campaign would end. The Atronach asked him what his plan to break the siege was. His answer was simple: overwhelming force.

The Lord Emperor marched up to the gates of Alinor with his combined Legions at his back. Fire peeled off his skin as he pulled on the wind and Tongue to summon a mighty blaze, so ferocious that the air around him seemed to crackle and combust out of fear. He sucked fire from the throats of his Dov and from the living bodies of the gathered Imoul into a single gout of combustive fury that smashed through the gates as though they were made of moldering parchment and ravaged the streets of Alinor. Out of the billowing smoke and ash, his army came roaring through. A line of Thalmor soldiers stood against the surging Legions, and in a swift movement Jun melted the armor on their bodies and crumpled it through them. Others rushed down from the walls to attack the rampaging army, only to fall to his rampaging Wardens. Argonian, Nord, Dunmer, Orsimer, Reachman, Breton, Imperial, Minotaur, Giant, Half-Giant, Nereid, Lamia, Mazken, Atronach, Altmer, and Maormer alike fought side by side as they crashed against the Dominion.

Caldra and the Gallant skated above the army on rails of fire, leaving scorched roofs in their wake. Keksa laughed as her kanabo cracked through armor and bludgeoned the Altmer within, clearing the way for the hissing mass of her Serpents and the flaming daedra among them. Veysan dueled with a Battlereeve, clashing his cutlass against a fine elven sword with far more skill behind it than most pirates. Though, clean fighting did not save the Reeve from a quick kick in the knee and a blade plunged through his neck. Kinol was a flurry of handaxes, planting them in skulls and tearing through limbs as the army surged for the Alinor Royal Palace. Barriers splintered at the wide swings of Gerthok the Tower as he roared forward, warriors surging between his steps. A Thalmor blade dropped through Sayra's head, only for the illusion to shatter as the real Mazken slipped a dagger into the soldiers back, and slipped away to skewer another fool. Goar scythed through Dominion troops, with the body of some unlucky fool hanging off each of his horns. The Commodore rushed towards the front to get in on the action, though narrowly avoided an axe flying at her face. The soldier came around for another swing while she was prone, though he was split in half by a Welkynar greatsword before he could make contact. Ranwe gave the Maormer a mocking smirk, and she responded by putting her shield up to deflect an arrow from skewering the Altmer’s neck. Ilyra reflected her smirk, causing the Regent War Lord to roll her eyes in admission. Jun pushed all the way up to the Royal Palace, mercilessly incinerating anything in his way, then kindly knocked on the doors before blowing them off their hinges. Rather than charge High Kinlady Aranneyla himself, the Lord Emperor waited for Ranwe, and graciously offered the fight to her in honor of her mother. Her apraxic vengeance stained the carpets red. At his request, she leaned back on the empty Throne of Alinor as he proclaimed the campaign won.

The condition of the Isles in the wake of the war was a messy affair. Some of the Dominion leadership, including the weaselly King Ocanym, had managed to slip away in the final hours of the siege on the city, though Jun was certain they would resurface elsewhere, perhaps even _in_ Elsweyr. However, without the Summerset Isles under their thumb, the Aldmeri Dominion could not properly hold their credence and he was certain their influence would wane. As for the Isles themselves, their laws were painstakingly reviewed and revised. The same freedom of religion endorsed in the mainland was replicated here. The borders were reopened to foreign ships to dock, hoping to increase trade with the Empire and stimulate their economy in the wake of the devastation. External laborers would also help with reconstruction, with Lillandril and Firsthold needing to be practically rebuilt and Sea Keep, Shimmerene, Sunhold, Dusk, and Alinor in need of extensive repairs. They also allowed Maormer citizenship within the Isles. Ranwe and Ilyra had gradually become good friends, both sharing common interests in seafaring and distaste for traditional Altmeri society. Encouragement from her and the Imperial Admiral had convinced her to not only accept change but embrace it, putting aside decades of fostered hatred to become a staunch proponent for the Combined Ebonheart Empire. Equally, she assisted them in opening up to certain aspects of Pyandonean culture, such as recreational snake racing and crunchy barracuda rangoons. Persuading other Maormer to settle in or around the Isles without them turning into raiding camps would be difficult, but Jun insisted that this just required strategy like everything else. Giving the Maormer the victory they always wanted was a hard act to discredit, no matter their standing grudges against Tamriel as a whole.

Regulations and restrictions on the dynastic requirements behind certain jobs and titles were repealed, allowing more opportunities for social mobility amongst the Altmer. Unfortunately, the people were not enamored with their Apraxic Queen to say the least, and as the months passed in her new role, she reciprocated the feeling. Ranwe could not stand the insistence on ceremony and urged Jun to find her a replacement, some snobby vicereeve or even a scullery maid for all the difference it made. Ranwe suggested that perhaps the Orcs had the right idea on how to rule, the strongest at the top with their own personal harem, though she also realized that such a decree would earn her little more than a savage revolt. The Empire found an heir in a nephew of Ocanym living in seclusion in the island of Wasten Coridale off the coast, and quickly Vicecannon Tanuril was elevated to King Tanuril of Alinor. Ranwe and Ilyra took up residence in Errinorne Isle, an otherwise abandoned island that Jun intended to be a Maormer settlement, and the two spent their time sailing around the Isles fighting pirates, sea monsters, hostile Pyandoneans, Thalmor loyalists, and anything else that threatened their new Summerset.

Veysan's injury had made him decide to take a break from the raucous life of a sailor to settle down for a bit. He did not know for how long, perhaps only a few months, maybe a few years, but still he felt it unfair to impede his crew's lust for glory and excitement. His Half-Giants had already built a good rep with the Corsairs, and Ranwe was more than happy to have them join up. She joked that they could teach these uptight Pyandoneans how to _really_ have fun, and promised the Imperial Admiral to take good care of them. With that, Veysan waved goodbye to his wonderful ravagers and took _The Headsman_ back to Lilmoth with a skeleton crew of Diamond Marines. 

Agni’s portal was repaired rather quickly once the war concluded, and after the survivors of the Legions had returned to the mainland through it, she had it disassembled and moved to the village of Thorheim Guard to the south of Russafeld. There she charged a fee for use of her portal, allowing effortless connection between both ends of Tamriel. A cut of her profits went to the Empire, though she still made enough to buy the ruined estate near the village and have it restored as her own manor.

With the conquest of Summerset complete, Jun’s focus returned to his Empire. While he had been focused on the south and northeast of Tamriel, an entirely different war had been brewing in the northwest. Faenach Antlercrown had resurfaced in the Wrothgarian Mountains of High Rock at the head of a vicious pack of werewolves. The burnt witch had been tearing through the province, slaughtering indiscriminately and taking large swaths of territory in the glorious name of Hircine to spite the one who had deformed her. He charged Kinol with the task of leading his own campaign and redirected his Legion to counter the threat, deciding to use it as an effective means to defer the militant machine he had created and transfer to a more peacetime mindset.

As such, he finally convinced Hammerfell to officially join the Empire once again. He also sent out requests to engage in talks with the Silvenar of Valenwood and the Mane of Elsweyr, though they were reluctant to concede to the Empire so soon. The Altmer managed to capture a Khajiit assassin sent to kill Tanuril not long after his coronation, but they formed a mutual respect while he was imprisoned, and the King suggested that he might be a good ambassador to his home province. It was said that Tanuril sent a message to the Silvenar encouraging him to make his own attempt on the King’s life, simply so he could befriend them as well.

King Orgnum had swum back to Pyandonea on a sea serpent and declared the Lord Emperor a liar lesser than even the foulest vermin. He vowed to raid every port and ship in the Southern Sea for having been cheated out of his revenge against the Altmer. Jun urged him to try. He bid the King to let the Maormer fill the region: the friendly would find warm ports and wealth; the rest would be cordially introduced to the sea floor.


	4. Chapter 4

##  Chapter 4

Once he was satisfied with the state of his Empire, Jun returned to Keksa. He had not forgotten her personal request. The War Lord was pleased to meet him but directed his attention to Miranae instead. She told him that over the nineteen days in Cloudrest he had been secluded she had been exploring her new nature. The Flamia was grateful to have a second chance at life, especially one blessed with newfound powers. She had trained with the Imoul Blazeweavers to learn how to control the fire she had been attuned to and discovered how to manipulate it with both her hands and voice. She could use the howling song of her species to raise a blaze higher, brighter, or hotter than before. Miranae wished to share this power with the rest of the Serpents, and they, after much intense discussion, wished to receive it. The Lamia offered to pledge their souls to Jun if he would raise them as daedra as he had done to their Captain.

So it was that they returned to the Palace in Apocrypha. The walls had entirely lost their slime, becoming perfectly smooth grey stone. In place of the stacks of books, they were adorned with hard geometric shapes and angular spirals. Keksa looked upon it in awe and reflection, mentioning out loud that they felt so very familiar. Jun was equally taken with the stone architecture and realized that although the structure of the Palace had not changed, its design was reminiscent of his old home: Xiutha. Keksa perked at the word. She wondered if this was how the xanmeers looked when they were first built, before they collapsed into ruins. He stated that this place was changing to reflect his idea of perfection, and his idea of a home.

His attention was drawn to the huge statues at either side of the Arcanum Hall, each one a depiction of his most prominent Essentials. They were adorned in gold accents and highlights. Keksa quickly found herself, teeth barred in an ancient Argonian depiction of a battle stance, and with a group of Lamia around her feet. She was immediately across from Veysan, posed as a master marsh-skimmer with curling waves behind him. The next pair were Jun’s siblings. Hahfrin had his hands folded in an old depiction of wisdom, with gold plate covering his core, mask, and Dwemer enhancements. Opposite him was Nahkiir, as made clear through the golden root in her chest, though Jun hardly recognized her. She had her head bent down, representing mercy, with one hand up and open to embrace the aspect and the other down over an axe in rejection. The angular branches of a tree spread around her.

In between the statues were carvings of various events. Jun’s battle with Vulthurzin, the fear of Sea Brine, the communion with the Red Mountain, the indirect siege of Cyrodiil, and the battle of Cloudrest, the surge at Alinor, though they were not all of him. As they traced the stories they saw others: Hahfrin’s discovery of Btharzaleft, Gerthok’s flaming roar at Falkreath, Nahkiir’s fight with Riigahliiv for dominance, Magrah’s victory over the chief of Narzulbur, Kinol’s taming of the Reiklings, Keksa’s placation of the Lamia, the creation of the first amber heart, Caldra’s ascension as Monarch of Imoul Vakh, the reconstruction of Hahfrin, Nahkiir’s salvation at Xiutha, Veysan’s destruction of the Summerset Coast, and Ranwe’s slaying of the Welkynar. Some of the carvings did not make any sense. One showed Ranwe and Ilyra sailing against a figure with three hands, the next depicted a woman leading soldiers and merchants through a chain of rings. The wall after showed a conflict between snarling Elves below and Argonians above, while yet another depicted Dunmer gathering around the Red Mountain in supplication. Jun found the carvings off-putting, reminders of a future after deeds, and turned to the task at hand.

The last statue was in the center of the chamber before the throne, part of a fountain of Amber Plasm. It depicted the twirling grace of Caldra twirling about, one hand raised and the other leading her spin. Plasm flowed up through the hollow statue, replicating the flames that made up her body, and spewed out of her top hand into the decorative pool below. The Serpents collected pitchers of the orange-ochre liquid and proceeded to the Laboratory just as before. The process of conversion was much simpler given that the Lamia’s soul and body were together, though the transference from Anuic animus to Daedric vestige was agonizing. The Flamia would later describe the sensation as rebirth through total immolation. Despite the pain, each one of the Serpents held their agreement and went through with the procedure.

Inspired by the success of transmogrifying living souls, Jun then began experimenting with the possibilities of the Amber Plasm. He submerged himself in a pool of the stuff, letting it seep into his skin and his own amber heart. Jun even breathed it through his gills, hoping to fully bind himself to the chaotic creatia. He spent three days completely submerged, coalescing material around his essence to become better entwined with Oblivion. When he finally emerged, Paar Jun showed all the effects typical of advanced Hist sap poisoning and then some. His scales had darkened considerably to the point they were nearly black, and both hardened and thickened into sturdy tips in places. Extreme cases of bark-scale could lead to similar crocodile-like deformities. The soft skin beneath the scales, including that on the neck, around the eyes, and in his mouth, had been stained a deep gold in a condition otherwise known as gold tongue. His mask had merged with his face, becoming one with the skin. His amber heart had moved into the center of his chest and sunken deep into the flesh. Though it was barely visible above the surface, the faint smolder of amber flowing through its ebony veins could still be seen. Swaths of scales from where the plasm had seeped under his skin had been turned the same translucent amber as the creatia. The splashes and drips of bright glowing orange made him appear almost like kin to the Atronachs he surrounded himself with. Total immersion in the plasm had been known to result in sap-tarnishing amongst mortal Argonians as well, though usually that was accompanied by madness and bloodlust. Jun was indeed consumed by a wild frenzy, but one of uncompromising excitement that urged him to continue experimentation. He drowned his Ambercore in the plasm and found they too exhibited similar traits, down to the plasm that now flowed through their veins. He decreed that they had bathed in the waters of Oblivion and returned as beings more daedra than mortal. He renamed them Ambremian, in recognition of their amber blood.

Still, Jun was not sated. A Daedric Lord was able to fashion new daedra from the creatia, and so as proof of his imminent ascension, he was determined to do the same. The work on amber hearts and the xanmeer architecture of the Palace had inspired him, and he used one of the most avid guardians of each as the model for his new form. With eight limbs and a hardened carapace, the centaur-like crustacean known as land dreugh were formidable creatures in the wilds of Tamriel. Blessed with an affinity for fire and the intelligence to wield it, Jun molded a daedric replica of the creatures with stony shells and eyes that blazed like a sunset. Caldra, ever difficult to impress, asked Jun if he had gotten the excitement out of his system with the invention of these ‘dreudra’.

She pulled him out of his Laboratory, away from his creations, and up to the privacy of the Chambers to talk. The Atronach stated that she knew why he had become so obsessed with the Amber Plasm: he was avoiding the rest of the world. This was just a convenient distraction to keep him from thinking about what needed to be done. He had already put in so much work, roped his most loyal into his despicable acts, expended the energy, resources, and lives of Tamriel to fuel his ambition. Even her own kin had become casualties of his drive. Yet now, as he approached his apotheosis, he hesitated. Jun said nothing, though his hollow gaze said it all. Caldra held her beloved and consoled him, remarking that the path ahead would not be easy. But ambition had driven him this far; he owed it to himself and all he had done to see it through.

Jun finally spoke, thanking her for standing by his side for so long. He admitted that his greatest success was attributed entirely to her skills and strategy, and hoped that she could forgive his weakness. She had already had to confront her family for his sake, and it was selfish for him to hold back after such a sacrifice. The Atronach ran a finger down his amber face and sighed that she had only fought to save him, a necessity, but the challenge of one’s frenzied and corrupted relative could not be equated to the act of which he was required. Still, she joked quietly, it is the sign of a thoughtful mind to consider the precipice. Only fools leap without looking down, though equally foolish are the ones who convince themselves away from a safe jump. He let out a sad laugh, then asked her to design a plan to carry out the final stage of his bargain. Perhaps even consult the Spiderkith of his old court to determine how best to do it secretly. He insisted that if he devised the plan himself, he would look down too long and turn away from the edge. Caldra gave him a hard slap on the back and agreed to do him this kindness. She encouraged him to put some distance from the planning, so he traveled to Xiutha.

Nahkiir was not there, having gone to quell a disturbance on the border with Valenwood, but that did not bother Jun. He asked two Root Rangers to go to collect his siblings, one to travel to his sister and bring her home, and the other to take the Btharzaleft engine to Hahfrin. He then settled into a mediation pool beneath Toh-Dimik, as he had first done to receive his revelation, and waited. Instead of the Hist, he was met by Vulthurzin.

It had been long since the old master had spoken to his greatest student, and Jun afforded him the time. The elder Dov noted that the First Koh-Nassa had achieved what all dragons desire: total dominion. His influence spread all across Tamriel and into the more distant realms. Only Tiber Septim, Dragon of the North, and Alduin, firstborn of the Dov, were comparable. Now, he too, sought ascension. Vulthurzin remarked that he could taste the bittersweet flavor of his voice, and seconded it. He balanced the pride he felt in training one of the greatest figures of recent time with the bloodshed and upheaval his student unleashed, and noted the scale teetered, unable to find stability. He asked Jun if the price of divinity was worth it. The Mulzeymah replied that he was no longer sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book 8 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132211/chapters/71517474


End file.
